


Box of Tricks

by inkvoices



Series: Best Day For A Threesome? [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Communication, Deaf Clint Barton, Dom/sub, F/M, Gen, Hair Braiding, Hand Feeding, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, Multi, Platonic BDSM, Shibari, Soft and Fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkvoices/pseuds/inkvoices
Summary: “I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” Clint says softly. “We do it because it’s fun."In which Natasha would like people to fix their shit, Clint wants to spend the day in a blanket burrito, Steve is overprotective, James is trying to figure things out, and there is a (mostly) platonic scene.





	Box of Tricks

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place immediately after 'High-Risk Manoeuvre' and doesn't make sense without reading that first fic first. Huge thanks to CloudAtlas for beta reading! Any remaining mistakes are mine. And please be aware that this is not a How To Guide for therapy or BDSM, just some characters working some things out about themselves.

Clint wakes up to the sound of voices and someone clattering around in the kitchen, which means he fell asleep with his hearing aids in and now his ears feel sticky and achy. Ugh.

He takes stock, too sleepy to move or open his eyes: he’s lying on his stomach on the couch, with his face half-mashed into the cushions and a cold patch of drool under his cheek. The rest of him is warm and snuggly; someone must have tucked a blanket over him in the night because he’s burritoed himself, and Lucky is a furry hot water bottle on top of his feet.

“How the hell does he make that look attractive?” James is saying, sounding put out.

“Magic,” Nat replies solemnly. “He was raised in a circus.”

“‘Scuse you, I was born this way,” Clint mumbles, still refusing to lift his head or peel his eyes open yet because, ugh, _mornings_. Then it registers that _James is in his apartment_ and he remembers: James Barnes, handcuffs, threesome. “Aww, did I fall asleep before the fun stuff last night?”

“You did,” Nat tells him, sounding ridiculously cheerful, because being a morning person is part of her evil charm. “You ate a whole pizza, then passed out. And after I’d changed the sheets and everything, such a romantic.”

The cushions dip as she sits down on the edge of the couch by his hip. She runs her fingers through his hair, nails scratching a little at his scalp, and Clint hums in appreciation.

“Me and James shared the bed,” Nat says and Clint hums again because that's a nice thought, even though he knows she means platonically.

Nat laughs, too loud and too close. It grates on his abused ears and he doesn’t mean to but he flinches. Nat’s hand pauses in his hair, before switching to gently massaging the back of his neck in apology. He really needs to take his aids out and give his ears a break, but that would require moving and, if he doesn’t want to miss out on the talking, concentrating in order to lip read.

“Sorry I missed it,” Clint says, words slurred with sleep and muffled by the cushions. He manages to summon just enough energy to wriggle his left arm out of the Barton Blanket Burrito and reach out blindly in Nat's direction. His hand lands on the hem of her top so he gives it a little tug. “Love you.”

“And I haven’t even given you coffee yet,” Nat jokes, talking softer than before. She covers his hand with hers and squeezes, which is Nat speak for _love you too_ , and Clint smiles to himself. “I’ve put a pot on. Then you can take James back to the Tower and get him to talk to Steve.”

“Aww, Nat, no,” Clint complains, but is drowned out by James saying, “I don't need _taking_ anywhere and I don’t see why – ”

“This needs fixing,” Nat says, cutting James off, and her voice is that firm tone that means shit is gonna get done. “You fight, you leave, Steve mopes, it pisses me off, you come back with your tail between your legs, and around we go again. I’m done with it. Fix it. Clint will help.”

“I'm better at the screwing up part,” Clint mutters.

“Be supportive.” Nat pinches the back of Clint’s hand, a sharp small twist of pain. He pokes her in the stomach in retaliation and she smacks his hand away. “I heard you told James that you do what I say.”

“I said _mostly_ ,” Clint says, letting his hand flop back down by his side and thinking how nice it would’ve been to spend the entire day wrapped in a blanket on the couch. “I _mostly_ do what you say.”

“And this is going to one of those times, ptichka.”

“Fine.” Clint sighs and curls his fingers into a fist, holding it out for James to bump. “Bro, fuck ups unite.”

He doesn't hear any response and James leaves him hanging. Clint finally makes the effort to move, peeling his face off the couch cushions and raising his head to look for him.

James is standing by the kitchen bar clutching a mug of coffee in both hands and frowning.

“What?” Clint asks, trying not to sound defensive.

“I just…” James’ frown deepens. “I don't speak whatever the fuck language you’ve been using.”

The legendary James Barnes, Winter Soldier, can't understand Clint's muffled by the couch morning mutterings? The dream is dead.

“But Nat does.”

“Magic,” Nat says again and ruffles Clint’s hair.

Lucky, disturbed by Clint moving around, shifts his weight on top of Clint's feet and gifts them with a doggy fart. As the smell spreads and Nat retreats to the kitchen Clint decides that, okay, now is the time to get up and get that coffee.

-O-

Steve is overjoyed to see James when they rock up at the Tower. Which is to say there's hugging, and back patting, and suspiciously teary eyes. At least there is from Steve; James stands rigidly in Steve's hold, eyes closed and face the kind of blank mask that means the person wearing it is hurting. It's all too much emotion for this time in the morning and Clint averts his eyes, trying to give them a bit of privacy.

Glancing around the communal kitchen he notes that the coffee machine is unfortunately empty, there’s a new stain on wall by the bin – ha, someone must have thrown something at it and missed – and he’s still wearing the handcuff from last night on his right wrist. After the decon shower yesterday, this morning he’d just washed his face and pulled on jeans and a hoodie from the mostly clean clothes pile and apparently left the cuff on. It’s not a huge deal. People will probably just think it’s some kind of wrist guard or, if they don’t know him very well, a fashion accessory. All the same, even hinting unintentionally at something that personal in public twists his stomach into knots. He prefers to share secrets on his own terms. He casually pulls his sleeve down to cover it and tucks his hands in the big front pocket of his hoodie to make sure it stays hiden; nothing to see here.

When he looks back James has at least leaned into Steve, but he still looks uncomfortable. Clint clears his throat. The reminder that they have an audience breaks things up and James looks thankfully less tense when he’s gained some space between him and his best buddy.

“Are you alright?” Steve asks, stepping back but grabbing hold of James’ forearms like he’ll disappear again if he doesn’t. His fingers press dimples into the leather of James’ jacket. “I was worried. You’ve not stayed out all night before, but JARVIS didn’t flag you as back in – ”

“Am I under house arrest?” James says, voice broken-glass sharp and jagged.

“Of course not!” Steve’s attempt at reassuring sounds less than, and it makes Clint cringe. “I just asked JARVIS to let me know when you were – ”

“Leaving my room? Taking a dump? Breathing?”

Even as tightly wound as James is, Clint can't help noticing that he doesn't break Steve's hold. In fact, his stance has relaxed into accomodating the broad hands keeping him in place.

“Don't,” Steve says quietly and James looks away.

“So,” Clint says brightly. He has every intention of following that up with a casual ‘I'll just be off then’, because this isn’t a show and watching it is fucking awkard, but when they both turn to look at him Steve is wearing that kicked puppy expression that Nat hates so much and James... James looks lost.

“So,” he says again with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate because apparently _sharing_ is a thing that he’s gonna do here. Fuck James Barnes and his face, and Nat for believing Clint can help with this mess. “After Loki - to be fair, after any time I get hurt - Nat gets a bit... overprotective. But after Loki it was. It got a bit much.”

From the way James’ eyes have gotten all intense someone’s explained to him about the whole Asgardian mind-controlling Clint thing, so that’s good, that’s something Clint doesn’t have to go into.

Clint hates talking about this shit. About _emotions_. Sure, he’s had plenty of practise, because the thing he has with Nat means that he absolutely has to. Regularly. And even before that he’d learned that if he wants there to be a him-and-Nat then communication can’t be a dirty word but, even though it’s gotten easier, talking about his feelings is never going to be something that comes naturally to him.

“She needed to know where I was, all of the time,” he explains, “and that I was safe. And not just _safe_ safe, like not bungee jumping off a bridge or not being the first person to test the latest experimental explosive arrow heads from Stark, but safe like even not being in the same building as SHIELD Agents looking at me funny – which they have every right to, considering I killed people they cared about. Safe as in bubble-wrapped.”

“That wasn’t you, that was Loki,” Steve says, interupting and insistent.

“Yeah, I know.” Clint rolls his eyes. “I went to therapy, thanks. I said ‘killed’, not ‘murdered’. The _point_ is that not knowing where I was and not being able to control my environment made Nat twitchy, but then letting her do that all the time made _me_ twitchy, like I was gonna crawl out of my skin, y’know?”

James’ eyes dart to Steve and then away again. His expression remains carefully neutral, but he risks a small nod.

Steve looks guilty and reduces his hold on James to one hand although he can’t seem to let go completely.

“We had to sit down and talk about it; what was and wasn’t acceptable. I mean, at one point,” Clint says, voice rising because it turns out he’s _still annoyed about this_ , “she was on about getting a tracker embedded in me. Like in a pet.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” James hisses and Steve somehow manages to look even guiltier.

“Ah.” Clint takes a breath to calm himself down and wraps his left hand around the cuff on his other wrist inside his hoodie pocket, just to feel that it’s there. “Right. Well anyway, we talked about it and now we have things that we do and it works. Coping mechanisms. Like Nat lets me know when it’s really bad for her and then I agree to regular check ins, and I let her track my phone if she needs to and I promise to keep it with me, but we agree on what’s okay. Or other times I tell her I need to go off grid, away from everyone or just do my own thing, but we plan to meet for food or whatever at a certain time so she can check up on me. Like sometimes,” he says, catching James’ eye, “it’s like what we talked about last night, on my terms and when I say that it stops, it stops. And sometimes I’m on my own, but that has an end point too and Nat gets to do what she needs to after so that she knows I’m okay.”

That’s a lot of word vomit, so Clint takes a moment to think about how he wants to wrap this up. He shrugs and leans back against the kitchen counter.

“Contrary to me running my mouth off here, I’m not a fan of talking about feelings and stuff. Even when I went to therapy I was shit at it. But Nat – she’s important. If it’s someone that’s worth it, you gotta talk it out, yeah?”

“We’ve not... been doing a lot of talking,” Steve says, glancing at James, “but Bucky’s started going to therapy. He’s been doing really well.”

“Thanks,” James says flatly and Clint winces.

He can practually feel James’ radiating annoyance and he gets it. James isn’t the most talkative guy, but it takes two to tango.

“What about you?” Clint asks Steve. “Or doing a session together or something?” They both blink at him for a moment, like it hadn’t actually occurred to them that was a thing people could do, so he adds, “Really, they do therapy for couples, parents and kids, group therapy. Whatever works.”

“Maybe you should try it with Stark,” James mumbles in Steve’s direction, because out of uniform Steve and Tony still have a habit of pressing on each other’s bruises. It’s a poor attempt at a joke, but a joke all the same so Clint smiles and catches Steve doing it too.

“Rich people, man,” Clint says. “Tony’s probably done more therapy in his life that than all of us put together. Bet he’d be up for it.” And that’s enough heavy talk for, God, not even half ten in the morning. “So. We good? You guys gonna talk?”

“Yes,” Steve says decisively, in that way he has that people think is pure Captain America but Clint has learned is actually stubborn little shit Steve Rogers. Steve in Captain America mode actually has more compromise in him.

So Clint’s a bit surprised that this is the point James stands up to him, slowly saying in disagreement, “But not now.”

Steve deflates and the kicked puppy face makes a return.

“I got a therapy appointment tomorrow morning,” James says, still slow like each word has to be carefully chosen and placed just right. “You call the Doc and say we want it to be a joint one, to talk through some things. Because I... It’s hard to talk to you about this without getting angry. Might help to have her help me to – to get the words right.”

“Okay,” Steve says. He squeezes James’ arm gently and finally lets go. “Okay, we’ll do that.”

Clint’s gonna call this one mission accomplished. He’d be impressed with himself for actually managing to pull it off, but he’s too busy being relieved. Plus now he can finally stop talking about _feelings _, thank god for that.__

__-O-_ _

__James seems like he wants some space between him and Steve before The Big Talk, and it might be good for them to have some time apart to calm down and think about what they want to say. Or at least that’s advice people have given Clint in the past and when he’s taken it it’s actually worked._ _

__Obviously he offers to let James stay at his apartment tonight again, if he wants. Steve takes a deep breath and says he can live with James being out of his sight if he knows that he’s with Clint and they have a set time to meet tomorrow. And that’s how James ends up following Clint out of the Tower._ _

__Clint wants to walk off the antsy feeling talking about emotions has brought on – and maybe have a small, internal freakout over Steve trusting _Clint _with the most important person in the world to him - plus James looks like he could do with some air, so a trip to Central Park it is. He keeps his right hand tucked in the pocket of his hoodie and merges into the flow of people on the sidewalk, skirting around a bunch of tourists snapping photos of the Tower’s ‘A’. James falls into step next to him and they don’t slow down until they reach the trees.___ _

____“Wanna see some ducks?”_ _ _ _

____James shrugs, which Clint takes as a yes. It’s something to do and if it turns out James finds ainimal watching acceptable maybe they can walk up to the zoo. He wonders if James has ever seen a red panda._ _ _ _

____They stop by the edge of the pond, standing side-by-side to stare out across the water. There are a few birds bobbing along near the oppoisite shore and an explosion of them where a small child is ripping up a bagel and tossing fat chunks of it on the ground, watched by two women with a pram. They look like they’re having a good gossip, but they’re far enough away that Clint can’t pick out what they’re saying._ _ _ _

____“Maybe we should’ve brought some bread,” James says._ _ _ _

____“Aww, no, bread is bad for ducks. Not sure you’re supposed to feed them at all actually, if they’re classed as wild animals.” Clint balances on the balls of his feet and stretches his arms up over his head, daring his back to pop. The hoodie’s loose sleeves slide down to his elbows exposing the cuff, but he shouldn’t be recognisable to most people outside the context of the Tower and out of uniform so fuck it. “Hey, let me know if you spot the hot duck.”_ _ _ _

____“The hot duck,” James repeats, turning to look at Clint with sceptical eyebrows and clearly doubting that this is a thing._ _ _ _

____“Yeah,” Clint says, grinning at him. “It’s a mandarin duck, probably escaped from somewhere. Colourful. Sexy,” he adds with a wink._ _ _ _

____“Sexy.”_ _ _ _

____James looks out at the water again, his expression returning to the blank mask that Clint is starting to think is his resting face. He looks far too serious to be the kind of person who’d hang out with Clint. Not to mention too well dressed in his leather jacket, matching gloves, hole-free jeans, and a scarf tucked into his collar that Clint is pretty sure is designer. At least, it looks super soft and expensive. Add the gentle breeze blowing across the pond and playing with the few strands of hair that’ve escaped his ponytail and James could be a model. Although Clint knows that under those fancy layers he’s wearing boxers and a t-shirt, fraying at the hem, borrowed from Clint._ _ _ _

____“What you said before,” James says quietly, “about Natasha being overprotective. What’s the difference between that and... you doing what she says? Her being in charge. And using that as – does doing that help? With it.”_ _ _ _

____Clint drags a deep breath in through his nose and pushes it back out in a rush, emptying his lungs. He tilts his head back and eyeballs a cloud that looks a bit like an elephant if he squints. He thinks about what he would’ve liked to know when he started down this road himself, and then he thinks about what James might need to know._ _ _ _

____“Yes and no,” he replies. He copies James, facing the pond rather than looking at him, because if this makes it easier for James to have this conversation then Clint can roll with it. “It’s something that works for us and, yeah, because we were already doing it and we could see how it could feed in – it helped us. But playing with power dynamics and bondage are not a miracle cure for an overprotective person in a relationship.”_ _ _ _

____“I wasn’t about to suggest it to _Steve_ ,” James says. In his peripheral vision Clint sees his nose crinkling up, like there’s a bad smell, and it’s adorable. “Just. Trying to figure out how it works.”_ _ _ _

____“Honestly, I think it’s individual.” Clint shrugs. “I mean, there’s some basics that definitely apply to everyone, starting with it has to be consensual. And since you brought Steve into this, I’m gonna put out there that it doesn’t have to be, and isn’t always, a sex thing.”_ _ _ _

____Is it bad that he really, really hopes James wants it to be a sex thing though? Because since Nat put the idea in his head last night, Clint keeps thinking about a threesome where Nat handcuffs James to Clint’s bed again but this time he’s gloriously naked._ _ _ _

____The kid feeding the ducks runs out of bread and the feathered crowd departs, most of them piling back into the pond. One of the woman side-eyes Clint and James as the other straps the kid into their pram, then they trundle off in the other direction._ _ _ _

____“So how does it work for you then,” James persists. “How does being overprotective versus... that – ”_ _ _ _

____“Bondage,” Clint says, because if you can’t talk about a thing then you shouldn’t be doing it. “Dominance and submission. Power play.”_ _ _ _

____“How are they different for you?”_ _ _ _

____Clint buries his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie again, just so he can fiddle with the handcuff’s D-ring and clip without it being obvious._ _ _ _

____“I hate it when Nat gets overprotective,” he admits, “because I’m a grown-ass adult and a – and I _was_ a SHEILD Agent, and I’m an Avenger damn it, and yeah I fuck up but I don’t need a babysitter. At the same time, I want to know she thinks I’m... worth helping and taking care of. Turns out that’s a thing I need in a healthy relationship.” He resists the urge to do finger quotes, because while it would make him feel better to crack a joke this is serious business for James. Clint doesn’t want him to feel like he’s being mocked for asking questions and trying to figure himself out. “I just. Want it to be my choice? I dunno, there’s just something different about it being a scene we put aside time for and not an everyday thing. Looking after me, but not thinking I can’t go to the bodega or the range without getting myself kidnapped or killed. Is this making any kind of sense?”_ _ _ _

____“Maybe.”_ _ _ _

____Behind them a few cyclists whizz past on the path and James briefly turns to watch them go; checking the perimeter._ _ _ _

____“Oh good, I’ve reached ‘maybe’.” Clint laughs under his breath and risks swaying to the left so that they nudge shoulders. He understands this is a public space and an awkward conversation, but it’d be nice if James were less tense. “Look, this is about you, not me, right?”_ _ _ _

____James hestitates, but then he nods._ _ _ _

____“So you liked Steve holding you,” Clint says, trying to sound factual and objective as if they’re just putting pieces of intelligence together before an Op. “But you didn’t like him using JARVIS to check where you are all the time. You like if he knows where you are because he put you there – no, because he’s there with you. You liked Nat handcuffing you to – ”_ _ _ _

____“No,” James says, voice rough. He clears his throat. “Not straight away. Later, I liked when you looked at me like – like I was something... good to look at.”_ _ _ _

____“A gift,” Clint offers softly._ _ _ _

____James swallows. “Then you checked my wrist. You said about people wanting it being sexy, and you took the handcuffs off, and it felt... safe.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah, I get that.” Clint hums thoughtfully. He takes a step closer so his entire arm and side presses warm against James, who allows it even if he’s still a rigid statue. “Maybe restraints aren’t your thing. Or not just your thing; you did let Nat tie you down.”_ _ _ _

____“I knew Natasha before,” James says, fast like pulling off a Band-aid._ _ _ _

____“Okay. Thank you for telling me,” Clint says carefully, “but I already know about that.” Granted Nat had told him about her past with the Winter Solider and he hadn’t known that the Solider and James Barnes were one and the same until pretty recently, but that’s because neither had she. He’s not sure what that has to do with this though._ _ _ _

____James huffs out a breath. “I wouldn’t have expected her to – want that. Handcuffs. Like the things they did to the girls.”_ _ _ _

____“Hey, no! This isn’t anything like that.”_ _ _ _

____That – God, Clint hopes that isn’t what James has been thinking all this time. That what Clint and Nat do is _anything_ like the fucking Red Room._ _ _ _

____He has to move, stalking forwards right to the water’s edge. Paces back again._ _ _ _

____This, more than sex, feels weird to talk about in a park, with birds singing in the trees, tourists talking a stroll, kids kicking around a ball. Maybe because those birds calls are probably all about about sex and territory, because nature, right? But the way that kind of scum treat people, treat _kids_ , like they’re not even human; there’s nothing natural about that._ _ _ _

____And _of course_ Nat used handcuffs on James yesterday instead of just tying him to the bed or locking him in the bathroom or whatever, because if she wanted to make James stop and think about why he’s constantly arguing with his best friend _and_ consider that he might have a kink natually she’d add the extra layer of ‘oh and here’s a comparison between your potential new kink and your traumatic past for you to think about’. Because she’s Natasha._ _ _ _

____Clint finally comes to a stop in front of James and makes sure James is looking at him when he says, “It’s not supposed to hurt. I mean, unless you want it to. Wait, I’m explaining this wrong.”_ _ _ _

____He runs both hands through his hair in frustration, trying to catch his breath and think for a moment._ _ _ _

____“This isn’t about things being done to you, it’s about things being done _for_ you. By someone non-jugdgemental, someone you trust, sometimes someone you love. And that goes both ways, whoever’s wearing the handcuffs.” He folds his arms and leans forward into James’ space as he adds, “And I made damn sure we picked cuffs that wouldn’t fuck with Nat’s head.”_ _ _ _

____“Okay,” James says. His shoulders slump down a little, like it’s finally okay for him to loosen up. One gloved hand creeps forward to touch Clint’s elbow in apology before he quickly tucks it into his jacket pocket, as if touching isn’t allowed. “Okay.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah, it is.” Clint knows his voice is full of hard edges and he’s on the defensive, but this is important. “Nat would never do anything she thought would hurt me like that – that I didn’t want – and she’d stop the second I asked her to if she ever got it wrong because she _has_ , and it’s the fucking same for me.” _ _ _ _

____“Okay,” James says yet again, but so quiet Clint almost doesn’t catch it. He drops his gaze and shoves his other hand in his pocket as well, then pulls both hands back out. Shifts his weight. Tucks some of the loose hair that’s blown across his face behind his ear._ _ _ _

____It’s the most restless Clint has ever seen him._ _ _ _

____Clint takes a deep breath, lets his arms fall to his sides, and gets right up in James’ face; close enough to kiss, close enough that James has to meet his eyes._ _ _ _

____“I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” he says, soft as James’ last ‘okay’ but still full of the sharp edges that he can’t let go of just yet because those have always been difficult for him to put down. James goes still. The park noises seem distant and even the wind dies down for a moment. “We do it because it’s fun. Because we _enjoy_ it. If you don’t enjoy it? Then you’re not doing it right or it’s just not for you.”_ _ _ _

____“I did,” James confesses. “I liked it.”_ _ _ _

____“I know.” Clint takes another deep breath, a step back, and wills himself to calm down. “But no one’s saying this is for you, or all of it’s for you. You wanna try it out, then go for it. If you don’t? That’s okay too. And you don’t have to get stuck on handcuffs. There’s loads of shit you can try.”_ _ _ _

____He brushes his fingers against the side of James’ hand, trying to be reassuring. James’ eyes drop down to the cuff on Clint’s wrist and stay there._ _ _ _

____“I’m not...”_ _ _ _

____Clint gives him a moment, but when nothing else is forthcoming asks gently, “You wanna try something small? Small-ish?”_ _ _ _

____Clint won’t throw him in at the deep end, because he has absolutely no intention of taking advantage thanks, but it hurts his heart how twisted up James is about all this and Clint can do something about that at least._ _ _ _

____James stares at the cuff some more and swallows._ _ _ _

____“Okay. Yes.”_ _ _ _

____“Okay,” Clint echoes, “let me do your hair.”_ _ _ _

____“What?” James’ eyes snap back to his._ _ _ _

____“I’ll wash it for you,” he offers, rocking back on his heels and grinning, because hell yes to subverting other people’s expectations. “Dry it. Maybe braid it or something. I promise not to cut it, dye it, or do anything drastic.”_ _ _ _

____James looks dubious, so Clint shrugs and says, “Call it a standing offer. Whenever you want to, if you want to.”_ _ _ _

____“No. No, I want to,” James says, gaining in confidence as he makes his mind up._ _ _ _

____“What, right now?” Clint takes another step back and his grin softens into a smile, because a confident, looking-like-a-model James asking him to play is _hot_. “What d’you think about coffee first? And maybe the zoo. Hey, have you ever seen a red panda?”_ _ _ _

____James peers at him suspiciously._ _ _ _

____“Is this like the hot duck?”_ _ _ _

____-O-_ _ _ _

____Clint stands in the bathroom for a good few minutes trying to work out the best way of setting the scene up. When it’s him and Nat usually one or both of them are naked and in the tub, but that’s really not suitable for giving James a platonic hand in figuring out his kinky side and easing his touch starvation. He’s aiming for sensual rather than sexual here. He settles on taking a low stool from the bedroom for James to sit on next to the bath. It’s not the best, but if James tilts his head back they should avoid a flooding incident._ _ _ _

____He gathers his supplies and lines up the products he wants to use on the side of the tub. James watches him, hovering in the doorway._ _ _ _

____“You wanna lose some layers?”_ _ _ _

____Clint keeps his back to James when he asks, deliberately leaving it up to James as to how far he wants to strip, and busies himself with tidying the cabinet. These days he uses Nat’s good stuff way more than the cheap crap at the back that he bought for himself. He should probably have a clear out._ _ _ _

____When he turns around James is down to his jeans and the borrowed t-shirt of Clint’s. Sadly not shirtless, but the top is worn, soft cotton that’ll be comfy and Clint doesn’t give a shit if it gets wet. He ducks back into the bedroom to copy him, switching his jeans for sweatpants and tossing his hoodie next to where James has left his things in a neat pile on the bed._ _ _ _

____James doesn’t look particularly comfortable as he perches on the stool, rocking a bit to test that it can take his weight, his feet bare and vulnerable on the cold tile floor, and eyeing up the things Clint has laid out like he’s not sure this is what he signed up for. So Clint decides to give him what his mind has fixated on. It’s not how he was planning to start, but it might get James into the right headspace._ _ _ _

____“Feet up a second,” Clint tells him, sliding a bathmat underneath them before kneeling down in front of him, his chest pressed snug against James’ legs._ _ _ _

____James blinks, eyes going wide. Clint grins up at him as he unbuckles the handcuff he’s been wearing all day, leather warm from his skin, and reaches for James’ right hand. He lets Clint turn it over as he wraps the cuff around his wrist and stroke along the blue path of his veins before fastening it. Clint takes his other hand, gets him to wrap it around the cuff on his right, and rests them in his lap with Clint’s hand on top holding them in place._ _ _ _

____“Now, keep those there,” he says, “right where I put them,” and James’ pupils dilate. He’s still tense, probably anixious and uncertain, but Clint can fix that._ _ _ _

____“So here’s how this is going to work,” he continues in the same smooth tone, which is just his calm and in control concentrating voice but it seems to work for James because Clint has his undivided attention. “I’m going to wash your hair and dry it, then we’re gonna move to the couch and I’ll brush it for you, maybe put some braids in. I’m not going to cut it or dye it, no sharp objects or strong chemicals. I’m going to try my best not to pull on any tangles or hurt you, but I’ll check in. You know the traffic light system?”_ _ _ _

____“Yes?” James says, like he knows what traffic lights are but he’s confused about the context._ _ _ _

____“Good.” Clint smiles at him and earns a small smile in reply. “So if I’m doing something that you like, you tell me that’s green. If you want me to hold on a minute, you’re not sure about something, or I’m doing something not quite right then that’s yellow, and if you want me to stop that’s red. You can also just say stop and I will, okay?”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah.” James’ voice has gone gravelly which, damn, Clint appreciates. “You’re just doing my hair though.”_ _ _ _

____Clint doesn’t point out that James has relaxed a lot more since he’s laid out the parameters of exactly what he can expect._ _ _ _

____“Yeah, I am,” Clint says instead, “and you’re trusting me to do that for you and to make you feel good. Thank you.”_ _ _ _

____James blinks and the only reason Clint doesn’t drop a kiss on the back of his hand, or press a thumb to the divot in his chin, or trace the curve of his eyebrow is because none of that falls under just doing James’ hair. He finds himself hoping that even if James decides kink isn’t for him – or they’re not kink compatable – that Nat still might be able to pursuade him into a threesome, because if he’s this responsive just to what they’ve done so far Clint would love to see his reactions to Clint putting his hands all over him. And his mouth._ _ _ _

____If Nat was actually serious about that yesterday. Clint kinda thinks she was._ _ _ _

____“Okay.” Clint gets back on his feet and wraps a towel around James’ neck and shoulders. He takes the shower off the hook and holds it over the tub for a minute after he switches it on, testing the temperature until it heats up. Then he rests his free hand on James’ nearest shoulder, which is still a bit stiff. “Tilt your head back for me?”_ _ _ _

____James complies and Clint cups a hand on his forehead to keep the water from going into his eyes while he gets his hair wet. Eyes that James keeps wide open, watching him. Shampoo next and Clint massages his temples gently then spreads the suds across his scalp, again careful of his eyes. Rinse, then conditioner. Steam and the smell of spring flowers fills the bathroom despite the busy hum of the extractor fan. Slowly James relaxes under his hands and his eyes finally start sliding shut._ _ _ _

____“You doing okay?” Clint says quietly as he rubs a little of the hair oil Nat uses as a detangler between his palms and finger-combs it through James’ hair. When James just hums in reply Clint checks, “Can you give me a colour?”_ _ _ _

____“Green,” he mutters._ _ _ _

____“Good. That’s good.” Clint wipes his hands off on a handtowel and plugs in the hairdryer. “Can you turn around a bit for me? Put your back to me. Yeah, like that.”_ _ _ _

____He soaks up the excess water with a clean towel first then does a standard blow dry, nothing fancy or styled. James cracks his eyes open and watches him in the steamy mirror over the sink as he concentrates on doing this right, not hurting James with a blast of hot air or catching the brush on any snags._ _ _ _

____“Okay,” Clint says when he’s satisfied. He removes the towel from around James’ neck and throws it in the tub with the others to deal with later. “You good to go downstairs?”_ _ _ _

____James nods, but he looks a bit dazed so Clint offers him a hand up off the stool. It takes him a moment to release his hold on the cuff he’s been clasping this whole time, and he hestitates before placing his metal hand in Clint’s but then even once he’s upright he doesn’t let go. Clint just squeezes his hand gently and leads him back through the bedroom and down to the open plan living–room-slash-kitchen that makes up the rest of the apartment._ _ _ _

____He stops James before he can sit next to him on the couch, putting a floor cushion down for him at Clint’s feet instead. Originally purchased for those rare occassions Clint has more visitors than can comfortably fit on his couch, which is to say when Kate brings America over, but he and Nat have since found it really handy for times like these. Sometimes it’s nice to have a height difference for a bit of power play and still be comfortable. It might be a little much for now, but as drowsy as James is Clint’s willing to bet that he’ll go with it._ _ _ _

____James hesitates again and his eyes clear a little._ _ _ _

____“Red?” Clint asks, looking up at him and refusing to be disappointed if this isn’t something he wants._ _ _ _

____James bites his lip. “Yellow?”_ _ _ _

____“Okay.” Clint strokes his thumb over James’ knuckles, once, then tugs a little until James finally lets go of his hand. He crosses his legs tailor style so that they’re up on the couch and James won’t be sitting between them, in case that intimacy is the problem. “It’ll be easier for me to reach your hair if you sit on the floor, but if you want we can both sit sideways on the couch.”_ _ _ _

____James’ eyes flick between the cushion and Clint’s face before he makes a decision. He goes with the cushion, settling in with lower back tucked against the couch._ _ _ _

____Clint’s free to smile since James can’t see him. He places one hand on top of James’ head for a moment, to let him settle, before smoothing it down to where the fall of hair ends about two handspans lower than his shoulders._ _ _ _

____“You’ve got really good hair,” he says. “Soft.”_ _ _ _

____James raises his hand like he’s going to touch it, like he needs to check that’s right because he can’t remember having soft hair before, but it’s his right hand and Clint can tell the moment he catches sight of the cuff still fastened around it because he freezes._ _ _ _

____“Hey,” Clint says, leaning over James’ right shoulder and whispering into his ear. “Hey, it’s okay.” He gives him a kind of half hug of reassuring contact and reaches along James’ arm to take hold of his wrist and lower it back down to his lap. “You need a reminder to keep your hands where I put them, hmm?”_ _ _ _

____James shivers, just a little, and Clint cups the back of his neck with his other hand before reaching for the box he’d stashed on the couch earlier. He draws out a satin red ribbon, the perfect shade to compliment Nat’s hair, and leans forward again._ _ _ _

____“Lift your hands up for me a minute?”_ _ _ _

____Once they’re in reach Clint weaves the ribbon around his left arm, from the wrist up to the elbow and back down again in a crosscrossing pattern before threading the two loose ends through the D-ring of the cuff on his right wrist and tying it off in a bow. He props his chin on James’ head to admire his handywork. James’ tilts his head to accomodate him as he lowers his hands back into his lap where they both stare at them._ _ _ _

____The incogruity of the metal arm and the delicate ribbon daring to hold it in place is, “Fucking beautiful,” Clint tells James. Like ribbons or soft jute rope woven around Natasha’s thighs._ _ _ _

____James shivers again. Clint resists the urge to kiss the shell of his ear and instead leans back. He does rest a hand on James’ shoulder, keeping in contact while reaching for the box again and pulling out a detangler and a soft bristled brush. He takes his time, brushing out any remaining tangles, brushing until James’ hair falls in a silky wave down his back, and then brushing just a little more for the way James starts to slump down, the last of his tension finally draining away._ _ _ _

____Clint chances lowering his legs to bracket James as support and James lists to the right, tilting into Clint’s warmth. That trust sends a thrill up his spine. He shifts his legs a little closer, so he’s touching James as much as he can and pretty much holding him in place._ _ _ _

____“Green?” he checks, just in case, squeezing James’ shoulder gently under he gets a sleepy murmur of approval._ _ _ _

____He runs his fingers through James’ hair, considering styles. Something that takes a bit of time, that isn’t over too soon. Something with at least a section that James can leave in for a bit and remember this by, if he wants. Maybe multiple braids with a top knot._ _ _ _

____Time goes wonderfully liquid for a while as Clint seperates out strands with a comb and gets to work, tilting James’ head where he needs it with gentle hands. For all that he apreciates someone giving up control and trusting Clint to take care of them, it doesn’t do as much for him as it does for Nat. For Clint this is the best part. Concentrating on aesthetics is almost meditative, like the calm, perfect moment just before releasing an arrow, and he loves the sensual intimacy of making a person feel beautiful and like they’re _worth_ feeling beautiful._ _ _ _

____He starts with the centre of James’ forehead, making a nice tight braid that stops short of pulling and ties it off when he reaches where he plans for the top knot to sit. He alternates on either side after that, creating symetrical rows. Then from the neck up for the few short braids that’ll sit underneath the knot. He tries various loops for the knot, over and over, just enjoying smoothing James’ hair between his fingers and James’ calm, steady breathing._ _ _ _

____Nat shows up when he’s fussing with the top knot and pinning the final design in place._ _ _ _

____“Pretty,” she says, pausing in front of them to stroke two fingers along James’ centre braid, forehead to top knot. James ducks his head a little, presumably in an attempt to hide a warm flush, but Clint still notices when it creeps up the sides and back of his neck, where Nat presses the pads of her fingers to the heat._ _ _ _

____Clint doesn’t bother to hide his smile, lifting his face up for Nat to steal a kiss. She settles in at the other end of the couch, sitting sideways so she can dump her feet in Clint’s lap and wriggling until she’s comfortable. He tugs off her socks, drops them on the floor, and starts massaging the balls of her feet, because that always earns statisfied noises._ _ _ _

____“I left Lucky with Kate and America for tonight,” Nat says after a few minutes. “Chinese later?”_ _ _ _

____“Mmm.” Clint smiles as he moves on to rubbing at her arches._ _ _ _

____“James?”_ _ _ _

____James twists around to look at her, staying between Clint’s legs but turning to sit sideways as he leans back against Clint’s right thigh._ _ _ _

____“Yeah, okay,” he agrees quietly. He’s still relaxed and loose-limbed, but starting to surface since Clint has let him be to fuss over Nat._ _ _ _

____“Feeling good?” she asks, amused but not in a mean way, and this time James lets them both see his dopey, pleased smile._ _ _ _

____He nods his head towards Clint and mumbles, “What you said. Magic,” which makes Nat laugh._ _ _ _

____His hands are still in his lap, right where Clint told him to keep them, wrists pressed together and fingers curled loosely around each other._ _ _ _

____Nat nudges Clint with toes. “I like what you’ve done with that ribbon as well.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah?” Clint stills his own hands, resting them on Nat’s ankles. Except for one thumb circling her delicate ankle bone, her skin soft beneath his calluses. “Can I... ?”_ _ _ _

____“Mmm, no higher than my knees.” She pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and tucks it around herself, knees to neck, and snuggles into the couch cushions preparing not to move for a while. She watches Clint as he carefully select a length of red jute from his box. “Have you taken your ears out yet today?”_ _ _ _

____He winces, because actually he hasn’t had chance to. He would’ve taken a break when they got back to the apartment after the park, but he’s needed them in to pay careful attention to James._ _ _ _

____“Hey,” Nat says, voice soft, “take them out now and I’ll listen for a bit, okay?”_ _ _ _

____She holds a hand out to take them from him and that’s okay. He can take them off and give them to her, because she’ll look after them for him, and let him know if James makes any sound that Clint needs to know about, and listen out for anything else important._ _ _ _

____James turns his head and slouches down, resting his cheek on Clint’s thigh. They both watch him as he removes his aids and surrenders them to Nat’s keeping._ _ _ _

____Then there’s just the silence with muffled edges of maybe-sound that he hates, except for how it’s kind of okay now because he’s warm, and safe, and there’s the rope and Nat’s skin beneath his fingers. Plus there are two sets of sleepy eyes watching him, and Clint’s always good with an audience._ _ _ _

____He starts with the ankle closest to him. He knows exactly what he wants to try: a pattern around Nat’s ankles and heels he’s seen online that reminds him of knitted ankle warmers except for how they’ll hold her feet in a ballet en-pointe-like position. He doubles the rope, making a show of it, and settles in. He has to concentrate to make sure each part of the repeating pattern aligns vertically, then also aligns horizontally on her other ankle when they’re placed side-by-side._ _ _ _

____Nat keeps perfectly still for him, watching through half-lidded eyes. He floats to the surface when he’s done and massaging her toes._ _ _ _

____< Very nice>, Nat signs at him, speaking aloud as well for James’ benefit. <I like it.>_ _ _ _

____James nods in agreement. With his head still resting against Clint’s thigh it turns into nuzzling. It looks like James would be quite happy to fall asleep right where he is and Clint would happily let him, so it’s probably a good thing they have Nat, who pulls her phone out from under her blanket to order food before they all drop off. She turns it around to show Clint their usual order and he nods. He can feel the vibrations from James as he speaks to Nat, presumably choosing his own._ _ _ _

____< Who’s going to move to get it?>_ _ _ _

____Clint hates talking when he can’t hear himself speaking marginally more than having to lift his hands off Nat’s skin to sign, so signing wins. They do have a one-handed shorthand that they use, but he associates that with missions and he doesn’t want that intruding on this atmosphere._ _ _ _

____She wriggles her toes. <Obviously not me.>____

____If Clint has to do it, again with the speaking problem with the person who comes to the door. Also he’d have to move, and he’s just too damn comfortable to move._ _ _ _

____He looks down at James, but with his pretty hair and pretty ribboned arm and pretty, content face that’s just not something he can disturb. Although he’d still have to extract his legs from where James –_ _ _ _

____< If you do it>, Nat says, <I’ll hand feed you the spring rolls.>_ _ _ _

____< Sold.>_ _ _ _

____She gives him a nudge about twenty minutes later, lifts her feet out of his lap and pulls her knees towards her. Clint in turn starts extracting himself. He taps James on the shoulder and places a supportive hand behind his back as he moves his legs away, which is a good plan because James is lax enough that he almost slumps over. James stays sat on the cushion just blinking for a moment, clearing his eyes and brain, before Clint gets a hand under his elbow and helps him to his feet._ _ _ _

____He instinctively keeps his bound hands lowered and doesn’t try to help, trusting Clint to direct._ _ _ _

____Fuck it. Clint leans in and presses a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek._ _ _ _

____He feels Nat slap him on the ass in reprimand, but James is blushing and smiling and when Clint glances over at her to mouth, <Only one, promise>, the corners of her lips curl upwards._ _ _ _

____He shuffles James around and pushes him to sit on the couch in his place. Removing his box of tricks creates a bit more space and he puts it aside on the breakfast bar for now. Fetching a few glasses of water also seems like a good idea, and finding some money for a tip._ _ _ _

____Nat waves at him when the doorbell rings._ _ _ _

____Chinese acquired, Clint squishes onto the couch in the middle. It’s a tight fit, but they manage to make it work. Nat’s legs end up stretched out over Clint’s with her feet in James’ lap. James carefully places his right hand over one bare set of toes, wrapping his fingers around them, and the metal one over her bound ankles, ribbon and rope perfect matching shades of red. Clint wants to take a picture, frame it and hang it on his bedroom wall._ _ _ _

____Nat pokes him in the side and points out, <Tactical error. He needs his hands to eat.>____

____She’s right. Handfeeding James would probably be too much too soon and wasn’t in their original negotiations for today. Clint passes her the bag of Chinese with a sigh and runs his hand over James’ ribbon-wrapped arm for a last time._ _ _ _

____James turns towards him and tilts his head with a small frown._ _ _ _

____“You need to be able to eat,” Clint says, hopefully modulating his tone enough that he’s not ridiculously loud._ _ _ _

____Technically he only has to make sure James’ hands are seperate though... He undoes the bow where the ribbon on James’ left hand has been tied to the D-ring of the cuffs, keeping the ribbon taunt so the pattern on his arm isn’t lost, and reties the bow in the centre of James’ left wrist. It leaves him with both the cuff and ribbon but free hands._ _ _ _

____“Okay?”_ _ _ _

____James nods, his smile back in place. Then, after a moment’s hestitation, he darts forward and lands a kiss on Clint’s jaw._ _ _ _

____Clint stares at him. He looks really fucking pleased with himself at the same time as blushing so hard the colour highlighting his cheekbones almost matches the ribbon around his arm. Clint isn’t sure if James was aiming for his jaw, or if when he gathered up his courage and went for it that’s just where he hit, but that was cuter than even the red pandas. If there’s one thing he’s learned today it’s that James Barnes is fucking sweet when he scenes._ _ _ _

____Nat tugs on the back of Clint’s t-shirt, breaking the moment, and passes James his order. He ducks his head over the cartons, perhaps forgetting his long hair is up and he can’t hide his blush behind it. At first he picks at the food with the wooden chopsticks until it must hit him that he’s actually starving and he starts shovelling it in._ _ _ _

____Nat tugs Clint’s t-shirt get his attention again and he tears his eyes away._ _ _ _

____As promised, she hand feeds him the spring rolls._ _ _ _

____Clint is still pleasantly mellow, but with it enough to notice that James shoots them curious glances in between stuffing his face. Eventually Nat brushes the crumbs off Clint’s bottom lip with her thumb before passing him a carton of chow mein and a set of chopsticks. He rests his free hand on top of her thigh as he digs in and she uses hers to circle his wrist, holding on. On his other side James leans his shoulder against Clint’s with a yawn._ _ _ _

____The food warms Clint from the inside out, as much as feeling trusted and safe surrounded by these two sharp, strong, beautiful people. He’s pretty warm on the outside too, tucked between them. He eats slowly, hoping maybe that’ll drag this moment out before Nat declare them done and insists they sensibly relocate to the bed._ _ _ _

____As much as Clint would’ve liked not to have had to move this morning and to have stayed all day in a blanket burrito on the couch, this is even better._ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> The internet informs me that ‘Ptichka’ means ‘birdie’ or ‘little bird’ - let me know if that's wrong. 
> 
> Google ducks and Central Park if you too would like to learn about the hot duck.
> 
> The hair style Clint does for James is ‘Braids With Bun’ from [here](https://www.fashionbeans.com/article/man-braids-hairstyles/) and the shibari on Natasha’s ankles is [this design](https://www.123rf.com/photo_31162523_shibari-pattern-on-two-legs-female-closeup-.html).


End file.
